What They Didn't Tell You, Potter
by Meredith Trainor
Summary: Harry and Draco have a Post-War conversation. Mildly Slashly. Harry asks Draco to tell him about what happened when he died. "I died when you died, I bled when you bled, I only came back when YOU came back. And I bet they didn't tell you that, Potter."


_**What They Didn't Tell You, Potter**_

A/note: This will tend to go off in the slash direction, but if you ignore what you don't like, then there will be no problems. And for those jAILED fans, I promise I'll work on it soon, I've just got to get this one out. Enjoy!

* * *

(Draco's POV, set right after the victory at Hogwarts, canon.)

"I sat there, on the ground, watching them walk you back inside. You looked pretty bad. There was nothing I wanted more than to follow you, to make sure you were safe, to thank you again. But even as I looked up, hopeful, the Granger girl, your friend, sneered at me and I knew I couldn't join you. The gap was too wide. So I walked, alone, back into the Great Hall, sort of trailing after them. And as I heard McGonagall start to give a speech, I stared silently at you, thinking back to the events of the day…

"Let's leave him! It's just Malfoy!" I heard the Weasel say, and I lost hope, as the Fyre flickered closer and closer.

"No! We have to save him." Your voice was the punch I needed, the shot of lightning that jolted me back to earth. I jumped on your broomstick when you told me to, and at that moment, I joined your side. No formality, just my arms wrapped around you—to keep me on the broom, of course.

"If we die for them, Harry, I'll kill you!" We flew faster than the wind, out the door of the Come-and-go Room, forever. And as it exploded, so did my past with the Dark Lord… I mean, V-voldemort. And I bid it good riddance as I squeezed your hand.

Later, I bore the punch from Weasley gladly, for I knew you cared enough to rescue me again. Was this all my life was turning out to be? I left the scene, rushing to join the fight, not to flee as you thought. I took down two Death Eaters, and foolishly Stunned Aunt Bellatrix, even as the Weasley woman yelled, "Not my daughter, you bitch!" What a mouth that woman has. That was the end of my aunt, for sure. I killed two more of my own kind as I made my way outside of Hogwarts, to fight bigger prey.

It was at the great doors, under the clock tower, that I met Fenrir Greyback, slave to the Dark—sorry, Voldemort. He looked up, pleased to see me, as he was already fighting two Light wizards. What he wasn't expected was my Cruciatus Curse, which blinded him with pain as they shot a stream of silver into his spine. He died a cold and wrenching death, and lay on the floor, in my way. I could see you, Potter, alone, making your way farther and farther from the castle, from safety. I heard the announcement, do you think me a fool? I knew what you set off to do, and I followed you, running. I knew better than to try and stop you, so I Disillusioned myself, hoping for the best, that you would win. You always win, Potter. What went wrong?

You stared up at the D—VOLDEMORT, dammit! You stared at him with a deadness in your eyes I've never seen. I've been studying your eyes for 6 years, and I've never seen you look so lifeless. What happened to you, Potter? What made you completely forsake all hope? When he screamed "Avada Kedavra" I thought the world was ending. I wondered why my heart was still beating, and felt the strange sensation of fire burning behind my eyelids. I was crying, for the first time since you caught me in the bathroom with Myrtle. You surprised me, Potter. I thought for sure you'd fight back, you'd defeat him.

I looked at your dead body as Neville shot into the room. He killed the snake, and then screamed bloody murder. Voldemort oversaw all of this with a slight smile. He ordered the brute, Hagrid, to pick you up. As I followed the small procession, with watery eyes I saw the Death Eaters rejoiced, and, in a Disillusioned form, killed another of my fellows for his mirth at your dead body. I could barely breathe as his limp form reminded me of you, and I sank to my knees. After a minute, I made myself get up, telling myself _I had to get your body back_. I wouldn't let him desecrate you, Potter. I know you're thinking it's just a body, and what could he do that was worse than death? Well, Potter, Voldemort is a sick, sick man, and he could do a lot of things to you that bring vomit to my lips. I wasn't going to let him defile you, even though you were already gone. Gone from me, and everyone else who loved you. Yes, Potter, I loved you. Haven't I proved it enough?

Hagrid carried you so that the whole school, and your precious Order saw your remains, but something happened that I didn't understand. You moved, Potter. When my mother bent over you, your lips moved. I've spent enough time staring at those lips, so that I can read them easily. What were you saying, Potter? Oh well, you can tell me later. Anyway, she pronounced you dead, and we moved on. Then Voldemort felt the need to make this grand speech, and Neville Longbottom, the fool, disobeyed him, a very stupid act. So he Crucio'd Neville and… oh, miracle of miracles! Harry! You woke up! You came back to us! Harry… err, Potter, oh what the hell I don't care! Harry you came back, and my broken heart was healed. Whatever I know that sounds so gay, but it's true, I was alive again. And you killed Voldemort, just like I knew you would. I never really lost faith in you, Harry.

I knew you'd come back, or I'd go to the next world to see you, but either way, I never gave up hope in you. Because you're the only thing worth putting faith in.

And I bet they never told you _that_, huh Potter?"


End file.
